Code Lyoko: Titanic II
by The Eccentric Gamer
Summary: An idea I've had in mind for about seven years. Full summary inside. Next chapter: TBD. Don't forget to review! Contains OCs and JxA. (Update, 8-3-13: Chapter V extended; announcement.)
1. Part One Prologue

**Before I start, here's the full summary I promised: **

**It has been nearly a year since the Lyoko Warriors defeated XANA. During spring break, they travel on board the newly-completed RMS _Titanic II_, a fully-functional replica of the famed and ill-fated ocean liner that struck an iceberg and sank one hundred years before. During this time, Aelita and Jeremy face the challenges of building their long-delayed relationship.**

**Unbeknownst to them, however, they are being hunted. A terrorist group known as the Black Ocean knows about Aelita's father, Franz Hopper, along with his works. Their goal: resurrect XANA. They had been looking for Aelita and Jeremy to assist them in their plot before finally finding them on board _Titanic II_. To get to them, the Black Ocean must rely on a boy named Andrew to befriend them and gain their trust.**

**Andrew, however, has never had friends like Aelita and Jeremy. As their friendship grows, so does the Black Ocean's threats. In the end, he must either comply to the terrorists' demands or face death...**

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**PLEASE READ BEFORE REVIEWING: I'm not the type of person to demand for reviews before updating—in my opinion, any author who does this seems to enjoy seeing their stories be reviewed more than they do actually writing the story itself. I will always update my stories regardless of the number of reviews I receive. **

**Nonetheless, reviews, favorites, and follows are always a welcome sight to me—they boost my morale and help to motivate me to devote my time into writing. Any and all reviews are appreciated as long as they are fair (no flames). So please review, favorite, and/or follow! Also note that I will be replying to reviews via private message whenever I'm able, and all guest reviews will be moderated.**

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**Lastly, the necessary evils that are the disclaimers: I do not own _Code Lyoko_ or any of its respective characters, they rightfully belong to MoonScoop.**

**All original characters (OCs) are my creation, and any similarities between these and those of other people is coincidental.  
**

******This story is not a crossover of any sort, otherwise you would not be seeing it on the regular _Code Lyoko_ fandom. This story is largely inspired by my longtime interests in both _Code Lyoko_ and the ocean liner RMS _Titanic_; with other media—such as James Cameron's 1997 movie, _Titanic_—serving as only a partial inspiration.**

**Any and all facts relating to the RMS _Titanic_ and other subjects were researched by me (some of which I've known within the last eight years). I take absolutely no credit for any and all facts displayed throughout the story.  
**

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He tried to hide his worry and hastiness from his friends as he hurried to his room. It was so far—they could be anywhere around the many corners of the corridor.

"Andrew?" asked the blonde boy behind him.

"Shhh!" he, Andrew, shushed.

Quietly, the boy's pink-haired friend whispered, "Why are we in a hurry?"

Andrew tried to make up an answer, but his mind had gone blank. The tilt of the floor forced him to magnify his efforts to get to his room. Fortunately, he had made it, and he entered. He needed to be swift in getting his things, so his friends wouldn't be ambushed by them.

Thankfully, he hadn't brought much with him, so he was finished before his friends had to wait long.

The boy asked, "Can you explain to us now, Andrew?"

Andrew saw an emergency staircase not very far away. He could save both himself and his friends!

He replied, "I'll explain when we get to the Safety…oh, no…"

Andrew wasn't fast enough. As the man emerged from around the corner of a side corridor he passed, he came to the unwelcome realization his friends were now at the mercy of them.

Wait—there was another side corridor behind him! The opportunity of escape was compelling, yet the chance of it costing him was also large.

The man started to run toward him and his friends.

Andrew decided to take the chance. "Aelita, Jeremy, run!"

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PART ONE  
_Successor to the Unsinkable_

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**The first chapter is all ready for you to read. Just hit 'next'!  
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	2. Chapter I

**Fun fact I (intentionally) saved for here: this story was published on April 12, 2013. 101 years ago on this day, in case you weren't aware, _Titanic_ continued to sail westward to her fate after leaving Southamption two days earlier. The actual date of the sinking is April 15, 1912, which is why I published this story when I did. I still have much work to do!  
**

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**I don't own _Code Lyoko_ or any of its respective characters, they rightfully belong to MoonScoop. The plotline and original characters (OCs) in this story are my creation, and any similarities between these and those of others are coincidental.**

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Chapter I:_ Building a Titan  
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There was a crude image on the chalkboard that appeared to have been drawn in a hurry. It was somewhat boxy, the lines were not completely straight, and the windows were irregularly shaped blobs.

In spite of these flaws, the figure was still recognizable as a ship from the early 1900s, prominently topped with four cylindrical smokestacks. In history, fourteen ships had this feature: five German, one French, and eight British.

The drawing, unsurprisingly, was of the most famous of them all: the RMS _Titanic_. Hailing from Great Britain, she was the largest ship of her time and labeled as 'practically unsinkable.' But on the night of April 14-15, 1912, the ship struck an iceberg and sank, with a large loss of life due to a limited number of lifeboats.

Mr. Widner had taught this lesson many times, but since this was his first year as a history teacher at Kadic Academy in a suburb of Paris, he delivered his lesson with lower quality than he had in the past. Despite this, he was impressed with his presentation, which was better than he thought it would be.

"When the ship was built," Mr. Widner taught, "the British Board of Trade had ruled that ships exceeding ten thousand tons had to carry a maximum of sixteen lifeboats.

"_Titanic_ did carry four more lifeboats than the law required, but it hardly mattered. Combined, the twenty lifeboats could carry just over half of those on board. Some left half-empty, because the crew were afraid they would buckle or flip over."

One of the students raised her hand. Mr. Widner knew this to be Elizabeth Delmas, the daughter of the principal. Although most of the teachers called her this, Mr. Widner called her by her preferred, more well-known name, Sissi.

"Did Jack really die when the ship sank?" Sissi asked.

Mr. Widner smiled. In the past, questions relating to Jack Dawson and Rose DeWitt Bukater from the 1997 _Titanic_ movie had been common. And he knew just how to answer them.

"Sissi, this may disappoint you," he began, "but Jack and Rose weren't real people. They were created just for the purposes of the movie."

Some light murmuring erupted in the classroom as this fact sank into the minds of the students. Being more tolerant of chatter than many of Kadic's other teachers were, Mr. Widner let it continue before resuming his lecture.

The lesson continued, covering _Titanic_'s history, passengers and crew, and other facts. Then came a new discussion—one student asked if there would ever be a second _Titanic_.

"By the way plans are proceeding at Belfast, where the ship was built," Mr. Widner said, "the RMS—that is, Royal Mail Ship—_Titanic II_ will be ready to sail exactly one hundred years after the original."

More murmuring. Mr. Widner went on, "I'm completely serious. A British billionaire named Clyde Burke announced the construction over three years ago. The ship is currently sitting incomplete at a dry dock there."

The new teacher looked at the clock hanging on the wall. There were less than a minute remaining in class.

"Friday," he announced, "we will be visiting the _Titanic_ Artifact Exhibition being held in downtown Paris. It's a half-hour-long bus drive, and the exhibit will last about an hour overall. Everyone here will attend barring circumstances beyond my control, and Jim has agreed to chaperone."

With that, the bell rang, and the students left the classroom.

* * *

It was lunchtime at Kadic. The students filed in to get their food and spend some social time with their friends. One group, however, sulked together at the largely undisturbed side of the cafeteria where they always sat.

Although they had prevailed into the new school year together, the five friends still shared that slight feeling of emptiness that they had felt last spring.

When XANA was defeated, Aelita, Jeremy, Odd, Ulrich, and Yumi could have found it a good time to be happy and proud of their victory, but instead were filled with depression that had resulted from the memories made of them fighting him and being on Lyoko, and in Aelita's case, the death of her father, Franz Hopper, who had created it all and gave his life to defeat XANA once and for all.

Life had been pretty normal for them recently (the worst case of depression occurring immediately after XANA and Hopper died) but today was different. After all, it had been six months to the day since Aelita had truly become an orphan. As a result, she was quieter today than she normally was. So, her friends decided to try to get her to speak up.

"So, Odd," said Ulrich to his best friend and roommate, "any luck with any girls? Or did dating them all last year finally catch up to you?"

"No luck," replied Odd, confidently, "but that doesn't mean I'm dead in the water. Next time, for sure, will be the one."

"Be careful what you wish for, Odd," Ulrich replied back. "For all we know, you could be doing it wrong and Sissi was that one the whole time."

Odd's optimism melted. In his days as a Lyoko warrior, he and Sissi had those moments. And he attempted to keep these from escalating. Although she was now a part-time friend to the gang, that didn't mean anything for Odd…did it?

Okay, what if it did? It seldom hurt to try something new.

"Alright," said Odd. "Say you're right, and Sissi really is 'that one.' I'd probably do a better job at asking her out than someone I know." Odd gave glances to Ulrich and Yumi, who were clearly not pleased, to say the least.

This was what was needed to get Aelita out of her sulking mood. She giggled at her friends' bickering. She also saw that Jeremy had joined in with their mirth.

But it was quick to fade, for another thought came to her, one that had been overshadowed by Aelita and Jeremy's many hours together in the computer lab to fight XANA with their combined smarts and by the death of her father.

It had crossed her mind several times before and after XANA's defeat much like it had now, but in this instance it was bugging her like never before.

Aelita felt an urge to express this thought with her best friend, Jeremy, who this thought concerned the most along with her. But she wasn't sure how. Jeremy should have thought this same thought from time to time, and she felt that he should have been the one talking to her about it. But Aelita knew that Jeremy never was the type who could easily lead a girl like her through a relationship, so she had to help expand his horizons. Despite this, they had always maintained little more than just a typical 'just friends' relationship.

"Still thinking about your father?" asked Jeremy. Aelita realized she'd let her thinking be visible to Jeremy. "Yes," she lied. Aelita knew Jeremy, deep down, had similar feelings for her as she had for him. Admitting them could wait longer—but how much longer?

"So, how was history class?" asked Yumi.

"Mr. Widner gave us a long lecture on the _Titanic_," answered Ulrich.

"He's almost obsessed with it," chimed in Odd. "When Sissi asked if Jack and Rose survived, he surprised everyone by saying they weren't real. Even I knew that."

"Anything else?" Yumi asked again.

"We're taking a field trip to the artifact exhibit on Friday," said Jeremy.

"And Mr. Widner told us they were building a second one," said Aelita.

"I didn't know that," Yumi said back.

"You probably shouldn't tell anyone, either," said Odd. "If they don't know about it, they won't be on board when it sinks."

The former Lyoko warriors did little more than roll their eyes at their friend's lame joke.

"Come on, Odd," said Jeremy. "Travel by ship safer now than it was back then. There are more lifeboats and there's a good ice patrol. Besides, why a hundred years after the original sank? It's like you said, going out with Sissi."

"Oh," said Odd. "I was going to ask Sissi out when _Titanic II_ sinks, but now I guess that won't happen. So instead, I'll ask her out _after_ Ulrich and Yumi go out."

Ulrich and Yumi maintained their cross look, causing Jeremy and Aelita to take pity on them.

"Okay, really, Odd," said Jeremy. "Ulrich and Yumi don't need _that_ kind of pressure."

"Besides," asked Aelita, "You aren't that serious about dating Sissi, are you?"

"Well, she did become our friend after we beat XANA," said Odd. "And she's the only girl in this grade I haven't dated yet."

"Who are you and what are you doing in Odd's body?" asked Ulrich, bewildered. "The Odd I know wouldn't think once about dating Sissi!"

"And the Ulrich I know would date Yumi!"

"And the Odd I know would remember when me and him switched bodies and what happened afterwards," said Yumi angrily.

Odd shuddered and stopped talking about his dare.

In the midst of Odd, Ulrich, and Yumi's chatter, Aelita readied herself to talk to Jeremy about her thoughts, but the bell rang for the end of lunch before that could happen.

_I'll get my chance,_ she thought. _Maybe during the week._

* * *

Although the ship was still under construction, the four towering smokestacks and the name on the bow gave away her identity.

The ship was the RMS _Titanic II_, the flagship of the New White Star Line fleet—as a matter of fact, the only major seagoing passenger ship in the New White Star Line. She was an ocean liner destined to sail the same routes her namesake was to take starting on April 10, 2012, precisely 100 years after the original _Titanic_ set sail on her fateful first voyage. For now, however, _Titanic II_ sat incomplete in the dry dock where she had been built for the past three years.

Harland & Wolff Shipyards was unusually busy for a Tuesday afternoon. Work on _Titanic II_ had recently fallen behind schedule, warranting the need for even more work hours and other necessities for building passenger ships.

"Their work hours will be worth it," said Clyde Burke as he looked over the dry dock at the ship. At forty-nine years old, he was the leader of the New White Star Line (named for the now-defunct line that had operated the original _Titanic_), and essentially _Titanic II_'s father.

"I hate to see the workers waste away evenings and weekends to get back on schedule," he continued, "but it's necessary to ensure _Titanic II_ sails for the one hundredth anniversary."

He was talking to his thirty-five year-old colleague and friend, John Sullivan, who had designed _Titanic II_. If anyone had disagreed about Burke being the ship's father, they would have instead said Sullivan was.

"And the way things are proceeding," Sullivan commented, "they will be back on schedule so that may happen."

Burke nodded. From the edge of the dry dock, they both surveyed the ship's incomplete elements like the paint, deck work, and erecting the masts. For Burke, however, this wasn't enough. He longed for a more close-up inspection.

"Do you wish to see her hull?" asked Sullivan.

"You read my mind," said Burke. With that, they descended a nearby staircase into the dry dock below. In four months, this area would be flooded and _Titanic II_ would be towed out for her finishing touches.

Burke and Sullivan walked up to the left side, also known as the port side, of _Titanic II_. The first stop was the bow, or front of the ship. Some of the biggest differences between the original _Titanic_ and her successor would be concealed underwater when she was finished. On the bow, this was the blunt bulb that increased fuel efficiency by forming a wave ahead of the ship and having her enter at the wave's lowest point.

Just aft, or to the rear of the bulbous bow were the bow thrusters, two circular holes in the ship's bow to help increase maneuverability by allowing the bow to move from side to side.

"I'm still amazed by the size!" exclaimed Burke, peering up to _Titanic II_'s upper decks as he and Sullivan walked towards the stern—the back end of the ship.

"Yet she won't come out as the biggest ship in the world, sadly," Sullivan said with a hint of remorse. "There's bigger fish nowadays, like the _Queen Mary 2_."

"Right," responded Burke. "But as the only two operating ocean liners since _QE2_ was retired, _Titanic II_'s biggest rival will perhaps be the _Queen Mary 2_."

"And what _Titanic II_ lacks in size," added Sullivan, "she makes up for in popularity and authenticity generated by the original ship."

"Yes," said Burke. He chuckled, then continued, "Ironic, isn't it? A century ago, White Star Line and _Titanic_ were competing against Cunard and _Lusitania_ and _Mauretania_. Today, we, the New White Star Line, are using _Titanic II_ to compete against Cunard and the _Queen Mary 2_."

"And thus Cunard and White Star's struggle for dominance of the ocean liner industry lives on to this day," Sullivan concluded for his partner with great finality. "Yes, very ironic," he said.

As they walked, Burke and Sullivan inspected one of _Titanic II_'s two large horizontal stabilizers that could be retracted and adjusted. These were meant to help keep the ship from rolling in rough seas. They also noticed how the ship had a welded hull, instead of the weak rivets used on the original**—**a crucial factor that led to the first _Titanic_'s downfall, not to be repeated today.

It was here that another man approached them. "Good day, Clyde!" he greeted.

Burke and Sullivan turned around to see forty-two year-old Loyd Davis walking up to them. His hair was thinning, and had a fair amount of facial hair. He looked like a proud man with few signs of age—and he had reason to be proud, for he was _Titanic II_'s future captain.

"How are you feeling today, Loyd?" asked Sullivan.

"I'm feeling quite excited," replied Davis. "Mostly because I wonder what it will be like to be in command of her."

"That is very exciting," Burke echoed. "You'll get your chance before you know it."

The three men continued their tour of _Titanic II_'s hull, turning around at the propellers and walking forward—towards the bow—off her starboard, or right, side. With that, they exited the dry dock and marveled at the sight.

The recreation of the world's greatest ship was almost complete. She was to be fitted with more lifeboats to comply with safety standards, and she was now more modernized and ready to withstand any kind of natural event that might cause her to founder.

What could possibly go wrong?

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**Hit 'next' to read Chapter II!  
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	3. Chapter II

**Firstly, I want to give another round of thanks everyone who reviewed. You gave me more confidence and anticipation in posting this chapter than I did when I published the prologue and Chapter I. (Seriously, I was _trembling_ as I tried to figure out how to publish those chapters via my iPod! Fortunately, I won't this time, and I anticipate your reviews here. :) )  
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**Secondly, one of my reviewers, Flying Scotsman 4472, told me I needed to give my beta readers credit (officially, I have no beta readers on FanFiction, but he, as my real-life best friend, served as one of two through e-mailing). So, I shall do just that!**

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**Big thanks to my unofficial beta readers:**

**Flying Scotsman**** 4472****  
**

**And another, non-FF member who I will keep anonymous for privacy reasons.  
**

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**Now that that's out of the way, I will give the disclaimer that may or may not be identical every chapter:  
**

**I don't own _Code Lyoko_ or any of its respective characters, they belong rightfully to MoonScoop.**

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Chapter II: _The Exhibition_

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Indeed, it was a bus drive about thirty minutes in length. On arriving, the students disembarked and walked into the building where the exhibition was being held.

After about ten more minutes of waiting, Mr. Widner and his class were finally allowed to enter the exhibit. The exhibit consisted of a tour through about a dozen rooms illustrating the many stages of _Titanic_'s life—from her building to her maiden voyage to her sinking.

Each room contained artifacts from the wreck itself, from bank notes to bags and even a pocket watch stopped just minutes before the ship went down at 2:20 AM. Replicas were also a common sight; the most notable of these was a recreation of the heart of _Titanic_'s twentieth-century elegancy—the Grand Staircase. The students admired the detail of the 1:1 scale replica.

The staircase was mostly made of oak delicately carved by skilled craftsmen. Nowhere was this more obviously present than surrounding the clock that provided the staircase with its centerpiece. The carvings surrounding the clock depicted two figures crowning it—Honor and Glory crowning Time. At the staircase's landing attached to the center rail was a bronze cherub holding a torch lamp in the air. If that wasn't enough, the Grand Staircase was topped with a large glass dome decorated with intricate metal girders that allowed sunlight to shine into the first-class area along with the dozens of gilded crystal chandeliers.

Mr. Widner personally taught all this to the class. Although visitors could freely roam the exhibit as fast as they wished, Mr. Widner knew so much about _Titanic_ and was such an accomplished public speaker that he had arranged with the exhibit manager, a friend of his, a private showing just for him and his class, guided by himself, and free of other visitors who might intervene.

Trailing behind the group of students, who were standing in a roughly two-by-two line, were Jeremy and Aelita, both examining the detail of the Grand Staircase. Aelita looked very impressed.

"It looks amazing," she said. "But smaller than it was in the movie."

"That's because it was," Jeremy explained.

"That explains why," said Aelita. "It was a good movie, though, wasn't it?"

"It was," he agreed. "But, like other movies, it has its own share of errors."

Aelita giggled. Jeremy liked to pick apart movies for their inaccuracies. Mostly it was cheap horror movies, but even James Cameron's blockbuster wasn't safe.

"Don't tell me, or Mr. Widner might overhear and go into a long lecture about it." Aelita said. Jeremy smiled as well as the class started to move on.

As they walked, Aelita asked Jeremy, "Wouldn't you want to go on a cruise some day?"

"Not only would I want to go on a cruise ship today," Jeremy answered, "but I already have been on one."

"When was that?"

"When I was seven, me, my parents, and some family members made a crossing from England to New York and back on the _Queen Elizabeth 2_."

"Was it fun?"

"I wouldn't mind doing it again. If my parents ever did it again, maybe you could come along."

Aelita blushed. "Oh, no, Jeremy, I couldn't—"

"Why not?" Jeremy continued. "They already treat you as one of the family because you're essentially my best friend."

Jeremy flinched at calling Aelita that. _That's an understatement__,_ he thought. Then he reconsidered it. _No, it's not an understatement,_ he thought again. _If only I knew how to tell her..._

Meanwhile, Aelita was thinking similar thoughts. She was still going through this process when—

"This is a replica of the third-class corridors," Mr. Widner began explaining. Aelita silently cursed to herself. _Well, it wasn't as though I could talk to him about anything else right here,_ she reassured herself.

They were now standing in a replica of the third-class, or steerage corridors. Mr. Widner taught the class about facts relating to _Titanic_'s third-class living conditions. In the background, over some hidden speakers, was the faint hum imitating the ship's engines, which were in close proximity to an area like this on the real ship. The hum grew louder as they entered another room replicating _Titanic_'s boiler rooms.

"If this was a real, working boiler room," lectured Mr. Widner, "you'd all be sweating by now. These huge boilers were maintained by the many stokers on board, who continuously fed the boilers with coal.

"The water inside would boil and the steam would go on to fuel the reciprocating engines that drove the two side propellers. Leftover steam goes into the turbine to drive the forward-only center propeller. Then it goes on to the condensers to become liquid water again, and then back into the boilers."

"This reminds me of my time when I worked in the engine room of a supertanker," Jim, who had been chaperoning the trip, spoke up.

Mr. Widner was impressed. "What was it like, Jim?" he asked.

Close up front, Odd nudged Ulrich on the arm. "Here it comes," he quietly announced.

"Uh, I'd rather not talk about it," Jim responded. The students snickered, while Mr. Widner looked at them in confusion. He did not know that this was a common thing for Jim to say. Nonetheless, he decided to let it go.

The mock boiler room's exit was a replica of a raised watertight door. Their intended purpose was to isolate the sixteen watertight compartments that gave _Titanic_ her title of being 'practically unsinkable.' At the press of a button on the bridge, the ship's command area, these doors would close and isolate flooding to a few compartments—up to four, to be exact.

The doors had done their job well when _Titanic_ hit the iceberg, but she sank anyway due to a blatant design flaw: at their highest, the bulkheads dividing the compartments only went up two decks above the waterline. As a result, when the iceberg struck, the ship's six forward-most compartments flooded, two compartments too many to keep _Titanic_ afloat. The ship's bow was dragged down, and the water in the compartments spilled over the bulkheads, one after the other, until the ship's stern was hanging in the air. At some point in some way, the ship broke into two pieces and sank.

The open watertight door replica showed the way to the next room, based largely on the ship's sinking. The room temperature had been cooled to simulate the air temperature as it was on that fateful night.

"Well," Mr. Widner spoke, "there's too much for me to teach on the sinking. Go ahead and check it out yourself. You have ten minutes."

With that, Jim added, "If I see any cell phones, their owners will get three hours of detention!"

For the next minutes, the students looked at the other objects in the room—more artifacts, replicas, signs on the wall. But the biggest attraction was a sheet of ice carved into the shape of an iceberg, indented with natural-looking slats in the ice. What didn't belong in the natural texture were a few isolated hand prints, as if some poor, helpless victims tried to hoist themselves onto it to escape the freezing water.

Aelita walked up to the iceberg alone, since Jeremy was busy looking at some artifacts elsewhere in the room. She examined a black plaque hanging next to it, which read, _'__On the night of April 14, 1912, the waters of the North Atlantic were below freezing, registering close to -2 degrees Celsius. Because salt water freezes at a lower temperature than fresh water, the saltwater ocean was colder that night than the freshwater iceberg before you. As a result, most of those lost during _Titanic_'s sinking did not die from drowning. They died from hypothermia—a rapid, mental and physical collapse that accompanies the lowering of body temperature.'_

It was a death Aelita could only imagine. True, the movie demonstrated it quite well, but to think people had actually died like this—not to mention what they must have gone through—was hard to believe. And depressing.

Mr. Widner had told everyone that touching the iceberg was encouraged by the exhibit. In a way that reminded her of deactivating the towers during her days on Lyoko, Aelita held out the palm of her hand and touched the iceberg with it. It felt like touching an oversized ice cube. She held her palm to the iceberg until her hand started to feel numb. Taking her hand off, Aelita winced at her hand's sting from the cold water that had melted from the iceberg into her hand.

"It's cold, isn't it?"

Aelita turned around to see Jeremy approaching next to her. "Yeah, it's cold," she answered.

She attempted to try to warm her hand back up with her other hand, but it wasn't enough. Aelita reached for her pocket with her cold hand, but it brushed against Jeremy's, and she grabbed his hand.

Jeremy was caught off guard. He suddenly felt uncomfortable with Aelita. _Stop it!_ he berated himself. He had come a long way from where he originally felt; he could do this. After a few seconds—he built up the courage to grip Aelita's hand as well. Then he turned to face her. She, too, faced him.

Jeremy tried to think of something to say to Aelita. Aelita noticed his struggle and gave him a smile. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Jeremy smiled as well. He began to open his mouth to say something, but was suddenly interrupted.

_"Belpois! Stones!"_ yelled Jim. Jeremy and Aelita immediately dropped their hands down to their sides. They looked to see Jim was walking towards them scoldingly.

"In case you haven't noticed," he said, "your classmates have long since moved on!" He pointed to Mr. Widner and his class, who were now standing by the entrance of the next room.

"If you do this again," Jim continued, "it won't be my fault that—"

_"Jim! What is the meaning of this?!__"_ Mr. Widner called as he confronted Jim. "In case you haven't noticed," he said, "I'm trying to teach a class. But your voice makes it difficult."

"I'm glad you're here, Mr. Widner," said Jim. "Belpois and Stones apparently decided to loiter here. I suggest—"

"You're a chaperone, Jim," Mr Widner said. "Your job is to help me take care of the class, but _I_ am the highest authority for this field trip. I'll take care of Aelita and Jeremy myself. Please do me a favor and watch over the rest of the class while I'm at it."

Surprised, Jim stammered, "Yes, Mr. Widner, sir," and walked back to join the rest of the class.

"Now, why did you decide to linger back here, you two?" inquired Mr. Widner, turning his attention back to Jeremy and Aelita.

"We were just feeling the iceberg," Jeremy said.

Mr. Widner glanced at the iceberg and rubbed his hand against it. "That's funny," he remarked, "it usually isn't this coarse." With a slight shrug he once again returned his focus on Jeremy and Aelita.

"It's cold," Aelita said.

"Very cold," Mr. Widner agreed, stroking the berg again. "Imagine being submerged in water like this. A very tragic death, indeed." He concluded his statement with a grim and solemn tone.

"Well, we shouldn't keep our classmates waiting," the teacher said. "Let's move on."

* * *

"Alright, gentlemen," instructed Victor Griffon, "you know what this means."

Victor was standing in a room of a bunker hidden within the mountains of Scotland, addressing three other men currently seated. His second-in-command, a tall, intelligent-looking man responded, "We've found a lead on the target."

Victor nodded. "Very good, Alec," he said. He cleared his throat and continued, "This is a rather unusual lead, but no less promising. Apparently, she is going to sail on the seven-day Mediterranean cruise on board the Italian cruise ship, _Costa Concordia_.

"The ship departs on the thirteenth of January from the port of Civiavettchia, near Rome, where she—and us—will embark. We must verify her presence on board the ship as quickly as possible, learn as much as possible from her, and capture her if we can. But we must do so before the ship makes its second port of call in Marseille, where she will disembark."

Victor made another slight nod. One of the men raised his hand.

"Yes, uh, Gregory?"

Gregory and George Carlson were identical twins serving as Victor's bodyguards. Not until recently had Victor figured out how to tell them apart.

"What is our chance of success?" Gregory asked.

"Excellent question," answered Victor. "It was six months ago when we managed to finally establish contact with Schaeffer's supercomputer. But, as you all know, it was shut down before we could pinpoint its exact location, even though we're sure that it is somewhere within fifty kilometers of Paris, France, and our capable network of hackers are narrowing it down as we speak. Until then, we will have to go by what we have—for example, and most importantly, we know that Schaeffer's daughter is alive and apparently well. She has ought to be in her mid-twenties by now. We also think that she may have taken a different identity. And we have good reason to believe she will be on the _Concordia_ on Friday, January 13, 2012."

Victor finished the last sentence with a smile. "So, to answer your question, Gregory," he explained, "I think we have a reasonably good chance."

"But that was what you said all those other times, sir, and we came up with mistaken identities," objected George.

Victor's smile was obliterated by sudden rage. "We _will_ find her eventually! Even if this _is_ another false alarm, I will continue my search until she is found!" Victor regained control of his emotions. "And if I don't find her soon, our tech workers will find Schaeffer's supercomputer. Once that occurs, we can accelerate our plans."

George did not say another word. He decided to take in the comfort that there was that slight chance, and continued to listen to Victor's briefing.

"Again," Victor told his men, "we will board the _Concordia_ in Civiavettchia when the target does. I do not expect us to be able to capture her and interrogate her on the ship. It's not a very long trip from Rome to Marseille with one stop in between. The best we can do is confirm it's her and determine as much as we can about her."

Victor took a seat in the chair behind him. "Alec, come here for a moment," he instructed Alec. Alec got up from his seat and sat down in another chair next to Victor. "How is our project coming along?" asked Victor.

"It's proceeding very well," said Alec. "We can finish it anywhere between two and three months from now. The problem is, we need to find a computer big enough to test it."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Victor responded. "Continue your work as usual."

Alec nodded, and returned to his original seat.

Another man entered the room. He was Ivan Chichkanov, was Alec's Russian adjutant and bodyguard. Alec sat back down in his spot. Ivan took the seat next to him. Alec asked, "What is our progress on locating Schaeffer's supercomputer?"

"We've narrowed down the margin of error by another square kilometer," answered Ivan, with his Russian accent that was otherwise in perfect English. "But so far, no breakthroughs."

"I see," said Alec bluntly. He was itching for a lead on the location of Schaeffer's supercomputer. He was anxious about the whereabouts of Schaeffer's daughter. He was anticipating the completion of the project. And like the rest of the group, he was waiting for something, anything, that could accelerate their plans.

_It's only a matter of time,_ he thought. _When that time is up, the Black Ocean will become a force to be reckoned with._

* * *

**Go on, hit 'next' for Chapter III!  
**


	4. Chapter III

**I was disappointed to see I did not get any reviews when I published Chapter II. Granted, I did get another follower (big thanks to them, although FanFiction won't let me post their name) and some more views, but other than that, nothing. I hope Chapter III is more fortunate! Please review, favorite, follow, anything that you'd like (preferably a review)!  
**

* * *

**Perhaps it's worthy to note that this is the first chapter to not feature characters in the show. Well, okay, they're referenced, but don't make an actual appearance in here, so I will post the disclaimer regardless:**

**I don't own _Code Lyoko_ or any of its respective characters, they belong rightfully to MoonScoop.**

**Special disclaimer: This chapter is based on real events centering around the foundering of the MS _Costa Concordia_, facts of which I researched on many websites. I take no credit for any and all facts displayed here.**

* * *

Chapter III: _Andrew and the Black Ocean_

* * *

"I'll be there in a moment."

"Hurry up!"

"Be patient!"

Another mistake. Not that Andrew cared, anyway. If the red of his cheeks was any indication, he had built a tolerance to his cousin Colin's slaps.

This time, however, they never came. His cousin's more forgiving—albeit by a narrow margin—wife, Mary, whispered words of patience to Colin.

Andrew had finished unpacking the suitcase. He plucked the TV remote from the queen-size bed where Colin and Mary would sleep, walked over to the sofa bed where they were sitting, and gave it to Colin. He turned on the TV and started fiddling with the controls.

"Blast!" exclaimed Colin. "Everything's in Italian!"

"Why don't you put on the captions?" asked Andrew.

"Why don't you?" Colin replied.

_He thinks it's more efficient for me to do it, the mindless brute,_ Andrew thought to himself as he figured out the controls of the remote. After a minute or so—complete with more calls of impatience by his cousin—he finally managed to get the TV to display English closed captioning. Andrew gave the remote back to Colin and got on to unpacking while they watched some Italian comedy show.

If he was like anyone else his age, Andrew would have liked the idea of going on a cruise. But having grown up with Colin and Mary, it was a nightmare to have to live in the same room with them for the next seven days. He was a very unlucky orphan. That thought of never knowing his parents but always knowing the abuse of his often drunk cousin saddened him every time he thought of them.

The only thing left of his parents that Andrew had in his possession was the prized jacket of his father that he was wearing, now that he was big enough to do so. It was black with a strange white symbol on it that Andrew had never seen before.

When he was younger, he had once asked his cousin how his parents died. "They were murdered," he had said. "Someone invaded their house and shot them while they were sleeping. This happened three days after they gave you to us. We realized it was for a reason and moved to Liverpool. The only reason we didn't leave you in an orphanage was because your father was my uncle, and I owed him a favor."

_An orphanage would have been better._ That was what Andrew thought to himself every time he reminded himself of the conversation.

He surveyed the stateroom that they would call home for the next seven days. _Well, it wasn't as if I had enough privacy in my own room back home in Liverpool, much less freedom of speech._ Any word of defiance was swiftly and brutally punished, which is why he kept silent when Colin and Mary agreed to not let him stay home alone out of distrust.

Still, like he had always done, Andrew tried to look at the bright side of the situation. _There seems to be a lot to do on board,_ he thought. Like many cruise ships, _Costa Concordia_ had her share of swimming pools, many restaurants and clubs, and even a theater. Up to this point, Colin and his wife had shown nothing that would deny Andrew to experience some of this.

Ten minutes had passed before Andrew finished putting the belongings of him, Colin and Mary in the right places. He then decided to ask Colin if he could tour the ship.

He thought about it. "Fine, but come back by nine o'clock tonight," he said.

Andrew felt a rare surge of joy build up inside him. Freedom from his cousin, even if it meant only for a few hours! Still, Andrew gave off little more than a polite "thank you" to Colin, and then left the room.

He walked out into the corridor of _Costa Concordia_'s Gran Bretagna deck. The ship was huge, and there was indeed a lot to do. He had no idea where to start.

Andrew resolved to retrace his steps going to his room from the stairway. _A little exploring would do someone like me good,_ he decided. He walked to the stairwell to find about half a dozen people standing about. One couple prepared to board one of the six nearby elevators. As the doors opened, Andrew joined them. "Mind if I follow?" he asked.

"Not at all," said the man, who turned out to be an American. "Where to?"

"Wherever you're going," Andrew replied, following them into the elevator. "I'm just exploring."

"We're heading to the Italia deck," said the woman—also American—as the doors closed. "The Athens theater is there. There's a show going on tonight."

"Brilliant," Andrew responded. "I may see it."

"Great!" said the man as the doors opened. As they got off, Andrew looked to his left to see five other men boarding the adjacent elevator. As each of them walked past Andrew, one of the men looked at him, then turned away and joined who appeared to be his partners in the elevator.

Andrew suddenly had a queer feeling. Why had the man looked at him? Was it his jacket? He had no idea. _I guess he was just interested in the design of the emblem like me,_ he thought. But the feeling refused to leave him, no matter how hard he tried to shake it off.

* * *

As Victor, accompanied by his men, boarded the elevator, the teenage boy who exited caught his eye.

"What is it, boss?" asked Gregory, noticing him looking back.

"I thought I saw something," answered Victor, shaking his head. Upon entering the elevator, he pressed the button to go up to the Spagna deck, the third highest passenger-accessible deck of the ship. Ivan then began to take out papers stapled into five separate but identical packets, each containing maps of _Costa Concordia_'s decks, and handed four of the packets to each of his four partners, leaving the last to himself.

Turning to George and Gregory, Victor asked them, "Are we clear on where you'll be looking for her?"

"Polonia and Austria decks," acknowledged Gregory.

"Spagna and Germania decks," acknowledged George.

"Very good," Victor said confidently. The doors opened to the Spagna deck, which was as high as the elevator could go. Victor pushed the button to go down to the Portogallo deck.

"So, Ivan," asked Victor, "Anymore progress on the supercomputer?"

"We've narrowed it down further to about a dozen places within the suburbs of Paris," answered Ivan. "Mostly a lot of old industrial districts."

"Schaeffer is quite predictable," Victor commented. "Few places are more suitable to hide a uranium-powered supercomputer than the basement of an abandoned factory or something to that effect."

Ivan nodded in agreement. "That reminds me, when you think we should deploy the scouts?" he asked.

"Not yet," said Victor. "Narrow it down more as best you can."

"And then what?"

"Leave that to me," Victor said confidently as the elevator stopped at the Portogallo deck.

"Irlanda, Portogallo, Francia," Ivan restated his designated decks as he exited.

"Very good," Victor said again as he hit another button, and the elevator began to descend four more decks.

"I'm assuming you're going to ask me how the project is going now," said Alec.

"Correct," Victor answered.

"It's about finished," said Alec. "But the problem remains on finding a suitable test subject."

"Well, nevermind that for now," said Victor. "Have you made the fail-safe?"

"That's one thing that still needs to be finished," Alec explained. "If the beta AI goes rogue and the kill command fails, we plan on installing a special barrier into the test computer to keep it from escaping into the network before we introduce the AI itself."

"You mean like a firewall?"

"In a sense, except that it's specially designed to contain the AI. Like a pen to contain an animal in a zoo. If it goes rogue, we can then try to dispose of it by any means possible without having to search for it on the network, where it could retaliate on us from."

"And if it were to retaliate on us from there—" began Victor.

"It would have a great pool of resources to do so," finished Alec. "Which is why I developed the 'reverse-firewall,' as I call it."

"Excellent," complimented Victor as the doors opened. Alec walked out of the elevator.

"Grecia, Italia, Gran Bretagna," said Alec, following Ivan's example as he got off. Victor nodded and headed down to the lowest deck, to search on the Olanda, Svezia, and Belgio decks, the three lowest decks on _Costa Concordia_.

_You can hide all you want, Aelit__a,_ he thought, _but we will find you eventually__._

* * *

The show was getting ready to start. Andrew was trying to find a good seat, but most of them had been taken. It was very frustrating for him, but at the same time pleasing.

_Why__, if it's this packed,_ he thought, _this should be pretty decent._

Finally, he found an empty seat next to a blonde woman, about in her mid-twenties.

"Excuse me," Andrew said to the woman, "is this seat taken?"

"No," answered the woman, with a distinctly French accent.

"Thank you," Andrew thanked the woman. After about thirty seconds, he realized it was going to be a few more minutes before the performance began. He decided to talk to the woman.

"What are they playing?" he asked her.

"Some dance and music performances," she replied. "But later tonight, a magician is supposed to come. Sometime after nine, I believe."

"I probably won't be able to see that, then," said Andrew disappointingly. "I'm supposed to be back in my room by that time."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said the woman.

At this point, Andrew was well aware of her French accent. "So, you're French?" he asked.

She nodded. "And you, British?"

"Yes," he confirmed. "I'm Andrew."

"Pleased to meet you," she said. Andrew held out his hand, and she shook it. "My name is Aelita."

"Pleased to meet you, too," Andrew responded.

"So, is this your first time cruising?" asked Aelita.

"Yes, it is," Andrew responded. "My cousin and his wife took me here with them."

"They're your guardians?"

"Yes. My parents are dead, as is my uncle, and a lot of my older family members."

"My sympathies," Aelita sympathized.

"It's all right," said Andrew. "So, same question, have you gone on a cruise before?"

"A few times," answered Aelita. "All of them on Costa Cruises, but this is my first time on the _Concordia_."

"I see," Andrew said, impressed, as the lights went out. Andrew leaned back in his seat as the show started.

* * *

Alec's eyes scanned the grandstands of the Grecia deck level of _Costa Concordia_'s Athens Theater. All those times in the past spent looking for Schaeffer's daughter, and it had been only a few times that he looked for anyone in an area as big as this one.

As Victor's second-in-command, Alec was the biggest supporter of the Black Ocean. It was through his financial aid that the group could prosper and be as widespread throughout the globe as it was. He and Victor had worked closely together since they attended a technical university together in Wales. From there, Schaeffer hired them both.

But many of Schaeffer's employees were known to disagree with him and his philosophies. As a result, many quit or were laid off. Among them was Victor and Alec, and since then they plotted against him; both for revenge and for their own benefit. So had others, however—and they often disagreed with each other. In spite of conflicts with other groups who had plotted against Schaeffer, the Black Ocean had survived.

A chain of events had erupted when Schaeffer and his family disappeared in two separate events. Since then, many anti-Schaeffer groups had begun a technical arms race to duplicate his works. The Black Ocean had always been one step behind in this race, so, more recently, it had diverted more of its attention to finding the whereabouts of his possessions that it could greatly benefit from. One of these was Schaeffer's daughter, Aelita.

The Black Ocean had been searching for Aelita for over half a year, with no reasonable success. Despite this, Victor had urged them to keep looking, which was why he, Alec, and three others were on board the cruise ship, _Costa Concordia_, on the night of January 13, 2012.

Alec continued to scour the grandstands before the lights could dim and the show would start. Prior to the voyage, the Black Ocean's hacking team had acquired photographs of the woman who Victor believed was Aelita—blonde hair, and in her mid-twenties as Victor believed.

It hardly made it easier for Alec—there were many lookalikes. _This isn't looking for a needle in a haystack,_ he thought, _this is looking for one out of a _thousand_ needles in a haystack!_

As soon as he thought this, he happened to look up to the Italia deck grandstands above him. It could have been another lookalike, but her face resembled that of the woman in the photographs. Could it be?

Alec watched the woman closely when a strangely familiar teenage boy walked up to the woman, and talked to her—presumably asking for the seat next to her, and then sitting in it. _Where have I seen him before?_ Alec thought again.

Then it hit him. _He's the one who exited the elevator when Victor assigned us!_ Was there a chance that he knew Aelita—that is, who they thought was Aelita? But Alec's attention then came to what the boy was wearing—a jacket with a vaguely familiar symbol, but while Alec was one to memorize faces, he wasn't one to memorize symbols, so he shrugged it off.

Alec urged himself to concentrate. He got out his smartphone and started to type out a message to Victor. He typed, 'May have found who we're looking for, going to investigate.' With that, Alec walked up the grandstands and exited the theater.

Going up to the Italia deck, he arrived at the Athens theater's entrance to the deck where the woman was sitting. The door, however, was closed.

"Excuse me," Alec said to a nearby attendant. The attendant looked up. "Can I get in?" Alec asked the attendant.

"Sorry, sir," answered the attendant with an Italian accent, "but the show is starting. We can't let anyone in."

"I see." Alec walked away, disappointed. He began to type a second message to Victor to tell him that he could not investigate, and resolved to wait out the end of the show. Suddenly, his smartphone beeped.

_An e-mail,_ he thought as he opened his e-mail tab. He found an e-mail, marked with a dot to signify that it was unread. It was from the hacking team back at headquarters in Scotland.

The e-mail was entitled, 'Update on identity to _Costa Concordia_ suspect.' Tapping the e-mail, Alec began reading it aloud, like he preferred to read things.

"'To Mr. Griffon, Mr. Johnson, and Mr. Chichkanov: We have made a discovery in the identity of the suspect you are looking for on board the _Costa Concordia_. We have found her personal files which you see screenshots and copies of now.'"

Alec scrolled down through the e-mail and continued, "'It is with deep regret that we inform you that Aelita Schaeffer is not on board the _Costa Concordia_ with you tonight, nor will she be. We send our sympathies for your failure, and bid you a good evening.'"

Alec was suddenly filled with a mixture of deep disappointment, anger, frustration—and fear. Alec knew very well that Victor was not one to take failure lightly. And as he tried again and again on something without success, he grew more and more irritable and easy to anger. The search for Aelita was a prime example.

With a gulp, Alec began typing out a second message to Victor that read, 'Did you get the e-mail?'

Five minutes passed. By then, Alec had repositioned himself outside the Berlin Grand Bar, also on the Italia deck. Then Victor replied, 'Meet me in my stateroom on the Svezia deck. All of you have gotten this message and are coming. You have fifteen minutes.'

By this time, Alec was feeling very worried about the rage he would meet from his partner. Oh, he had experienced it before, but it was never pretty, and neither was the aftermath.

Taking a deep breath out of anxiety, Alec walked to the elevators.

* * *

"That was a very neat performance," Andrew said to Aelita as they exited the Athens theater.

"It was," Aelita agreed.

Andrew looked at his watch. It read 9:00 PM. _"Fine, but come back by nine o'clock tonight,"_ Colin's voice echoed in his head. _Oh, no,_ Andrew thought to himself.

"I need to go now," Andrew announced. "Good night!"

"Good night!" called Aelita as Andrew hurriedly walked to the stairs.

Andrew ran up to the Gran Bretagna deck and to his stateroom. He knocked on the door and was let in by Mary, who stared at him, looking agitated. Andrew only stared back at her, blankly.

He looked to see Colin sitting on the bed, with an empty brandy bottle in his hand, looking very dazed.

_"I thought...I told you...to come back by nine!"_ Colin yelled at Andrew, pointing at him with the end of the empty bottle as he stood up from his bed, his legs quivering.

Fear erupted inside Andrew. His cousin was drunk. Andrew backed away as slowly as Colin advanced on him. After a few steps, Mary grabbed him. Andrew caught whiff of Mary's breath, which showed that she, too, had ingested some alcohol.

Colin charged to beat him, the bottle raised high over his head. As childish as it was, Andrew bit Mary's hand in the instinct that it was his only chance of escape. He then dove to the ground as Colin's bottle came down and hit Mary in the stomach. As Mary recovered from both the bite and the blow, Andrew scrambled behind Mary and to his feet as Colin pushed his wife out of the way and chased Andrew out of the stateroom.

Andrew flung the door open as fast as he could, and stepped out. Colin's hand reached for Andrew, but Andrew slammed it between the door and the edge of the doorway. Colin yelled out in pain as Andrew shut the door and ran off as fast as he could down the corridor, his head continuously whipping left and right, looking for some kind of refuge.

His eyes fell on a door marked as 'Emergency Stairs.' Andrew opened the door, entered, and started to travel down the stairwell.

* * *

"You all have no idea how angry I am."

In reality, Ivan and Alec knew exactly how angry Victor was. This was his sixth attempt to find Aelita, the daughter of Waldo Schaeffer, and this was his sixth failure to do so. True to Alec's prediction, Victor was angrier than he was in his last failure meeting.

_"I've been trying to find that girl for many months now,"_ he ranted, _"and every time, she turns out to be someone completely different!_

_"I keep telling myself that I'll find her eventually, yet my complete excuses for workers have failed me every single time! I'm getting sick of it!"_

Out of breath, Victor paused for a moment and looked at his watch. Then, to Alec and Ivan, he said, "Do either of you two know where those foolish twins are?"

"They should have been here by now," said Ivan.

Victor's temper only worsened. "Well, did it ever occur to you that they _aren't_ here?!"

Alec and Ivan kept silent, on the principle that they shouldn't add fuel to the fire—that is, making Victor even more angry by answering to him.

Victor wiped the sweat off from his brow. "It's hot in here. Let's move outside."

"Where to?" asked Alec.

"The emergency staircase across the hall," answered Victor. With that, the three left the room and entered the emergency stairwell.

* * *

Andrew continued down the stairs, hoping to hide somewhere within the unexplored lower decks of _Costa Concordia_. That was when he heard it.

A door opened from the lower levels, and then shut. He expected footsteps to be pounding on the stairs, but they never came. Instead, a man with a British accent began to speak, or, rather, yell.

"As I was saying, I am getting _sick_ of your failures!" the man yelled.

Andrew crept down the stairs. It seemed that they were directly below the landing he was on now.

"If we're going to make any progress at all now, we must shift our attention to finding that supercomputer!"

Now Andrew had touched down on the next landing. They were in sight now—the man was yelling at two other men.

"This is my _sixth_ failed attempt to find her! If we're going to find Aelita now, we need to find Schaeffer's supercomputer first!"

"Aelita?" Andrew blurted out loud. Immediately he covered his mouth, but it was too late. The three men looked up to see him.

"What are you doing?" asked the man who had been yelling.

"I was just...uh..." Andrew stammered, trying to think of an excuse for his presence.

"You were just what?" asked one of the other men, with a Russian accent. The three men began to walk up the stairs towards him.

"I heard you talk," Andrew attempted to explain. "I came down to listen."

"Victor," said the third man, also with a British accent. "Look at what he's wearing."

The man who had been yelling—Victor—took a look at Andrew's jacket, and he looked at it with great interest before turning his attention back to Andrew.

"You said Aelita," said Victor, continuing to advance up the stairs towards Andrew. "Do you know who we're talking about?" he asked.

"The nice lady in the theater?" Andrew asked back, slowly walking backwards up the stairs. "That's the only one I know."

"Not that one," said the Russian man. "We're not looking for _her_."

The third man spoke up. "I don't recall you telling us your name."

"Why should I tell you?"

"No worries," said Victor. "You've already heard enough, anyway."

"Yes, I have," Andrew replied. "And I'll just be going."

Andrew turned to run up the stairs, but two pairs of arms grabbed him before he could do so. Colin and Mary! They had caught up to him! Or...had they? The arms that had grabbed him were thicker, more powerful, more muscular.

"Go?" asked Victor. "But you've only just met Gregory and George."

Andrew tried to cry out for help, but a thick hand covered his mouth with a firm, vice-like grip.

"Time for a proper introduction," said Victor. "I'm Victor, but you probably know that already." Gesturing to the Russian man, he continued, "This is Ivan, and this—" he turned to the third man, "—is Alec. Now, will you be a good boy and tell us your name now?"

The hand remained clasped over Andrew's mouth.

"No?" said Victor disappointingly. "Oh, well. We'll know it soon enough. Good night."

With that, a cloth came over Andrew's face. He took a breath out of it and tried to yell for help, but before he could, everything went dark as he fainted.

* * *

**Ladies and gentlemen, my longest chapter so far! I'm not too impressed with how it turned out, considering I was working on a deadline for most of it, but it's arguably my best chapter yet. If this ends up like Chapter II and doesn't get any reviews, however, I'm going to be _highly_ disappointed. So for the love of all things nice, _please review!_ I don't even care whether you go soft on me or not. ****(I'm sure, though, that the majority of you people will be kind and considerate, and I greatly appreciate that.)  
**

**Since you probably aren't as keen on ships as I am, you've probably not heard of _Costa Concordia_. You can look it up, and that will probably jog your memory. Alternatively, you can find out in Chapter IV by hitting 'next.'**


	5. Chapter IV

**Before I start, I must admit: I never had to publish this on a schedule like I've been doing. I felt like it was a good way to draw people into my story, but I now realize that it seems to be a bit of a nuisance for me.**

**I might not be a doctor, but it doesn't take one to diagnose myself or anyone else with writer's block. I've lately been struggling on what to write for future chapters, and so I won't be able to keep up with my schedule that I've been working with. Therefore, _Code Lyoko: Titanic II_ will go on the first of probably many hiatuses throughout the lifetime of its writing. **

**How long will it be? I don't know. It depends on how I can cope with the writer's block. It helps that school ends in a month, giving me more time with writing. If I feel the hiatus has gone on long enough, I may release a chapter if one is finished before I declare an end to the hiatus.**

**When the hiatus ends, will there still be weekly updates? According to my current plan, yes. I'm going to write as much as I can until I feel that I've gotten over the writer's block. When I feel the writer's block has passed, I'll resume the weekly updates.**

**Lastly, I'll make updates on my profile to show how I'm doing and give you clues as to when the hiatus will end.**

* * *

**This chapter still doesn't necessarily feature characters from the show, regardless, I will show the disclaimer:**

**I don't own _Code Lyoko_ or any of its respective characters, they belong rightfully to MoonScoop.**

**Special disclaimer: This chapter is based on real events centering around the foundering of the MS _Costa Concordia_, facts of which I researched on many websites. I take no credit for any and all facts displayed here.**

* * *

Chapter IV: _Demise of the _Concordia

* * *

Although it had really been only about half an hour, Andrew felt like he had only been asleep for little more than a second.

He held no memories of why he had gone to sleep. But he realized with confusion that he was sitting on a wooden chair. He tried to stretch, but he couldn't. He was restrained in some way.

As Andrew jolted to a much more awake and alert state, he realized that he was bound to the chair by ropes. _What the heck?_ he pondered.

He remembered now. He had listened to the conversation between three men, only to be captured by them and two others. The cloth over his face must have harbored some sort of incapacitating agent—probably chloroform. Andrew looked around to find that he was in a normal _Costa Concordia_ oceanview stateroom—in many ways identical to his own, but lacking the balcony; in its place two windows—and back down to the ropes that held him in the chair.

Andrew put two and two together, and came with a horrifying result. _I'm a hostage!_

Given the state of his shock, it wasn't surprising that it took him longer to realize another abnormality—Andrew felt a rough cloth between his teeth, and it was tied all the way around his head. _I'm gagged, as well._

He took another few looks around the room, to find that it was deserted. But it wasn't that way for long. The door opened, and the five men Andrew had met in the emergency stairwell walked in—Victor, Alec, Ivan, George, and Gregory.

"Ah, you're awake," said Victor pleasingly. "I'd thought you'd be out for longer. I guess you're not as heavy of a sleeper as I am."

The door shut behind them on its own, and three of the men took seats. Only Victor and Alec remained standing. Alec walked over and began to untie the gag. "You will answer to us now," Alec explained as he untied the gag. "And if you refuse, or try to yell out, remember that each of us is armed."

"How is that even possible?" Andrew asked him, muffled by the gag.

"We have our ways," Alec answered as he took off the gag. "Now, if you have anymore questions, ask them, and we may answer them."

"Why are you holding me hostage?" Andrew asked to all of the men, clearly now that the gag was off.

"Because you listened to our conversation, and you said something about Aelita," replied Victor.

"So? I was talking about someone on board. I could have sworn one of you said, 'Not that one. We're not looking for her.'" Andrew looked at Ivan and, unable to point, gestured to him with his head. "He said it," Andrew said.

"We know that," Victor continued to explain. "We came on board to look for her, but, as it turns out, she wasn't the one we were _really_ looking for."

"I see," said Andrew. "Why would you tell me that?"

"You also asked us why we're holding you hostage."

"So?" Andrew asked again.

"Well, what do you think of when you hear the word, 'hostage?'"

Andrew was a bit confused, but went ahead and answered anyway. "Someone who is taken captive to exchange for something else," he defined to Victor.

"Not a dictionary definition, but good enough," Victor responded. "You _aren't_ a hostage. We can't exchange you to the authorities, because you've seen our faces. If we did, you could just as easily testify against us."

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?"

"Perhaps."

"Then why not do it now?"

Victor sat down on his bed. "Because I like having nice, long conversations with my victims before I do it. I'm a very social bloke; it's the way I like it," he explained. "Also, Alec told me how you were talking to the woman who we thought we were looking for, and I figured you could be of some use to us."

Andrew stared at Victor in shock. "Are you daft?" he asked him. Andrew felt a hand tap him on the shoulder. He turned his head to see that each of the two men who had grabbed him—they appeared to be identical twins—now had a combat knife in their hand.

Andrew gulped. Perhaps these men weren't as crazy as he thought.

"You can call my mate daft all you want," threatened Alec, "and that's a one-way ticket to whatever afterlife you believe in. If you want to take advice from me, I'll let you know that he's not in a very good mood tonight."

Victor looked at Andrew, apparently intrigued—with his jacket? "You never told us your name," he said. "What is it?"

"Andrew Mann, sir."

"Ah." Victor looked satisfied now. "Now make your decision. Consider how quickly Gregory and George can kill, or consider how merciful we're being by letting you join us."

Andrew was at a stalemate between his thoughts. He could die, but he could also grow up as—what? A criminal? A terrorist? He wasn't exactly sure who these people were.

"Take your time," Victor said. "We can leave you there as long as we see fit, and we're patient people."

Alec looked at him.

"Alright," Victor admitted irritatingly. "We're _usually_ patient people."

As Andrew thought it over, a loud crash caused everyone to jump. The crash transitioned into a loud, high-pitched screeching noise. It sounded like something large was _scraping_ the side of _Costa Concordia_'s hull.

The five men covered their ears to protect them from the high-pitched squeal. Andrew could not, so he tensed up the muscles in his ears to try to suppress the sound.

With another loud bang, the scraping stopped. Andrew's ears were ringing from the screech of the impact, but he could still hear.

_"What the heck was that?!"_ yelled Victor when the scraping had stopped.

"How should I know?!" exclaimed Alec.

"Something's definitely wrong here," responded Victor. He turned to Gregory and George. "Stay here, and watch the boy. We'll deal with him later." With that, Victor, Alec, and Ivan exited the room.

This had been the strangest and most eventful day in Andrew's life. First time on a cruise, meeting a nice woman, being captured by terrorists who had been looking for said woman—only for it to turn out to be a case of mistaken identity—and being offered the chance to join the terrorists, or face death.

A few more minutes passed without event when the lights suddenly went out. _And now, whatever's happening now,_ Andrew thought as Gregory and George looked for sources of light. One of them pulled out a flashlight and focused it on Andrew, leaving him astonished at how resourceful these people could be. Strange and eventful, indeed!

* * *

After exiting the stateroom, Alec, Ivan, and Victor walked down the corridor towards the stairway. When they arrived, the lights abruptly shut off.

"What happened to the lights?" asked Alec.

"Don't worry about that," said Victor. "There should be emergency lights." From all over the corridor, emergency light fixtures illuminated to compensate for the power loss.

"So, what do we do now?" asked Ivan.

Victor thought for a second. "All of us will have to split up," he answered. Alec and Ivan understood; in the event that misfortune was to fall on one of the terrorists—through being caught, killed, or anything else of the like—the majority of them could still withdraw from a situation and keep the Black Ocean secure.

"Victor, what do you think is going on?" Ivan asked again.

"I might not be a sailor," began Victor. "but I think we've hit something. Don't be surprised if they order us to the lifeboats."

"What about the boy?" Alec questioned.

"Leave him to me," Victor replied. "What time is it?"

"Nine forty-eight," Alec announced, checking his watch. "I reckon the collision took place three minutes ago."

"Alright," Victor instructed. "Split up, you two. Get some life jackets from your rooms. The lifeboats are on the Grecia deck. Good luck." With that, Alec and Ivan walked up the stairs, while Victor walked back to his stateroom.

* * *

In the darkness, Andrew heard the door open again, then shut on its own like it did. One of the twins shined their flashlight towards it to reveal Victor.

"Take what you can, there will barely be enough room in the lifeboats."

"Lifeboats?" Andrew asked. "The ship's going to sink?"

"I don't know," Victor responded. "But either way, this is your last chance. Join us or we'll slit your throat." Victor gave another hand gesture as he said it. _Why has he been doing that?_ Andrew wondered. It didn't take long for him to find an answer.

Immediately after Victor finished his sentence and made the gesture, one of the twins—Andrew couldn't tell them apart—restrained his chest with his arm and used his hand to cover Andrew's mouth so he would remain silent. Meanwhile, his brother took out his combat knife and held it to Andrew's throat.

"Two of my men are already in the process of escaping," Victor continued. "I've only come back to deal with you. So, what will it be?"

Andrew wanted to live, but not as a criminal. Then he thought about his cousin. Colin had spent many years in prison for a variety of reasons—assault, drug dealing, attempts at arson...Andrew could go on forever. Although his cousin was better now than he had been, his cruel nature had given Andrew a life filled with grief.

_How much worse could this be?_ he thought.

_"Fmnh!"_ Andrew shouted, coming out muffled due to one of the twins' hands being on his mouth.

"Take your hands off of him, George," commanded Victor.

"Fine," repeated Andrew, clearly now, regaining his breath. "My life is bad enough as it is. I'll join you."

"Splendid!" exclaimed Victor, pleasantly, then ordered the twins to untie the ropes holding Andrew.

"So, how bad?" Victor asked, curiously.

"My parents are dead, and my brute of a cousin is raising me," said Andrew. "He's been in jail a lot."

"Yes," Victor acknowledged. His eyes once again glanced at Andrew's jacket.

"Why are you interested in my jacket?"

"Hmm?" Victor looked up.

"You've been looking at my jacket quite a bit," said Andrew.

"Oh, it's a curious design, that's all."

Andrew looked more closely at it. He had never been too curious for the design that took it up. The only reason why he wore it was because his father often did, or so Colin told him.

By now, Andrew was untied, and he stood up from the chair. Gregory and George stood behind him. As he stood up, Andrew nearly lost his balance.

"The floor is tilted!" he exclaimed. Indeed, _Costa Concordia_ had tilted to her port side, causing objects in the room to slide towards the windows.

"It seems like we're taking on water," commented Victor, rather calmly.

"Why are you so calm, boss?" asked one of the twins.

"Because the captain hasn't called for us to go to the lifeboats yet," Victor answered. "Strange, I haven't heard him. I've heard that we've had a blackout, but that's obvious."

Victor turned to Andrew. "Me, you, Gregory, and George will split up," he explained. "You'll go with them, while I go alone. Also, if you betray us, remember that we know your name, and we can find you, just as we found who we _thought_ we were looking for. Remember that we can and will retaliate against you if you give us a reason."

Andrew nodded as Victor gave some more hand signals and walked out of the cabin, taking a life jacket with him. Andrew began to follow, but George and Gregory held him back.

"Wait," one of them said. "Wait for him to disappear."

A few minutes passed as Andrew and the twin brothers got on some life jackets. Eventually, they put their flashlights away, and exited the cabin.

* * *

As they walked up the staircase, skipping the elevators—they all knew that using an elevator in a situation like this was not a good idea—Andrew wondered what exactly was wrong with _Costa Concordia_.

Unbeknownst to him and other passengers, _Costa __Concordia_ had indeed collided with a reef off the coast of the Italian island Isola del Giglio. The cruise ship had been taking on water since then. The engine room had flooded, causing power to be lost throughout the ship.

With no propulsion, and by means of inertia and the ship's steering mechanism, _Costa Concordia_ continued to drift northward past Giglio Porto, the island's harbor. Finally, at around 10:10 PM local time and less than half an hour after the collision, the ship made a starboard turn to the south. Due to rushing water from within the ship as she made the turn, _Costa Concordia_ rolled back upright from her port list, and began to tilt to starboard.

At around this time, due to reports from the daughter of one of the passengers, the harbor master of the Port of Livorno contacted _Costa Concordia_ to check if she was having problems. An officer radioed back that the ship was merely having electrical problems that would be fixed soon. Unconvinced, the harbor master radioed the ship's captain ten minutes later, who stated his ship was taking on water and requested a tug boat.

Meanwhile, off the coast of Isola del Giglio, _Costa Concordia_ continued to tilt onto her starboard side as she drifted to the west, finally running aground off the island's coast minutes later as the ship began to evacuate the over four thousand people on board—about an hour after the collision.

Back on deck, Andrew, George, and Gregory joined hundreds of other passengers on the starboard end of the Grecia deck, where the lifeboats were.

It was one of the most crowded places Andrew had ever been in. Almost every last square centimeter of the deck was taken up by passengers, denoted by their bright, orange life vests. Crew members, in contrast, wore yellow vests.

Andrew was effectively sandwiched between George and Gregory, to ensure that he wouldn't escape. Many more minutes passed as they inched their way closer to _Costa Concordia_'s lifeboats. It was getting tiring—Andrew had to keep himself balanced as the ship continued to gradually tilt downwards relative to his position.

He looked around. To his left and ahead of him was a large, dense crowd of people who were waiting for the opportunity to board a lifeboat. Andrew, George, and Gregory were among those waiting to get into this particular lifeboat. To his right and behind him was a relatively less crowded area. He peered through it to see more passengers waiting to board a lifeboat.

And among the waiting passengers, he saw, stood Colin and Mary.

Andrew froze. They were less than fifty feet away from him, and they hadn't noticed him.

Andrew looked back at Gregory and George. They didn't seem to be paying much attention. Andrew returned his gaze to his cousin and his wife, who seemed to have gotten over their drunk states. At this point, he noticed that they were continuously looking around. _Are they _looking_ for me?_ he wondered with shock.

Andrew saw an open spot in the crowd. He could escape George and Gregory and get to them, or maybe yell out their names! He wouldn't have to worry anymore about these terrorists.

And yet—the possibility of consequences remained etched in his thoughts. If he went back to Colin, his attitude would be unlikely to change much—he might be nicer to him for about a month, at most, before returning to his original state.

And what about Victor? His threat remained etched in Andrew's thoughts: _"Remember that we can and will retaliate if you give us a reason."_ It wasn't by accident that they managed to find who they thought was this Aelita they were searching for, whoever she was. Andrew also recalled hearing him rant in the staircase that it was his sixth failed attempt to find her.

_Surely, if they've been looking for her,_ he reasoned, _it shouldn't be too hard for them to find me, especially now that they know who I am._

Correction—it _wouldn't_ be too hard for them to find him.

Andrew wedged himself more between George and Gregory as they prepared to board the lifeboat. When Andrew looked back, he noticed that Colin and Mary had gone. _How much worse could this be?_ he thought for the second time that night.

As crew members helped Andrew into the lifeboat, he was unprepared for how level the lifeboat was in comparison to the angled deck of _Costa Concordia_. He sat down in a designated seating area inside the lifeboat, completely enclosed except for a small entryway that was nearly covered by a tarp, to shelter passengers from the elements. Gregory and George squeezed between him, and that was when Andrew realized how crowded the lifeboat was.

More passengers and crew got into the lifeboat before it was declared to be full. The motorized winches on board the ship began to automatically lower the lifeboat. Andrew sat close to the entryway, where he had a good view of _Costa Concordia_ as the boat lowered.

To his shock, the lifeboat hit the water only less than ten feet below where it had been lowered from. The waterline was almost to the promenade deck from where the lifeboats were launched.

"Is the ship really sinking?" Andrew asked Gregory—or George. He still could not tell them apart.

"It looks like she is," the twin answered. It was by this point that Andrew noticed that they were British, like him and Victor.

The lifeboat's motor started, and it gradually began to pull away from the gigantic cruise ship, gradually revealing scenes of people waiting to board the few lifeboats left on board. Andrew silently expressed worry for them.

"So, what's going to happen to me now?" he asked one of the brothers.

"Victor will decide when we meet up," the brother replied. "Probably when we get to the harbor, that seems to be where we're heading." He gestured to the lights of a harbor in the distance, ahead relative to the lifeboat's direction. Indeed, the boat was heading for Giglio Porto.

Yet another few minutes passed before the majority of _Costa Concordia_ came into sight. By now, Andrew could see that she was clearly in much trouble. The ship was listing heavily on her starboard side, her decks remaining lit by emergency lighting. The ship's bright orange and white lifeboats continued to maneuver away from her.

When Andrew looked ahead of _Costa Concordia_'s bow, he saw more boats that seemed to be of Coast Guard origin closing in on her to help. He also heard a helicopter overhead—a search and rescue helicopter?

Andrew continued to watch _Costa Concordia_ slowly capsize to a near-sideways position for the next twenty minutes or so before the lifeboat arrived in Giglio Porto, docking at one of the piers. The passengers began to pile out. Since Andrew, Gregory, and George were among the closest to the entryway, they were able to exit before most of the other passengers.

As they stepped out into the crowd, they were met by other fellow passengers and some of Isola del Giglio's kind residents. More than once, Andrew was offered warm clothing or a hot drink, which he respectfully turned down each time.

Andrew turned back out to see that _Costa Concordia_ was almost completely on her side. He was still hearing helicopters when a searchlight fell onto the cruise ship's hull from the sky. The lights of a helicopter slowed to a hover over _Costa Concordia_'s hull, and Andrew realized with horror, _There are people on the ship's side! _Andrew, as helpful as he was, knew very well that there was nothing he could do for them but place faith in the search and rescue men who were trying to rescue them.

So, with a last look to the partially sunken hulk of _Costa Concordia_, Andrew was led by Gregory and George into the town of Giglio Porto, wondering what his new life had in store for him first.

* * *

**And that is how you make stuff happen within the first five chapters of a story while leaving your readers still eager for more (come on, I know that you're anticipating more). **

**I must say, though: I'm not as proud of this chapter as I am with some of the others. It was rather rushed into production because a lot has been going on throughout the week. Oh well, what can you do?**

**On a more serious note, however, the _Costa Concordia_ disaster was a real event that happened on January 13, 2012. I dedicate this chapter to the 32 people who perished in this horrible disaster. May they rest in peace.  
**

**Chapter V is only one click of the 'next' button away...  
**


	6. Chapter V

**Just so you know, the hiatus isn't over. I merely published this chapter to mark _Titanic_'s 102nd birthday. In case you're confused, May 31, 1911 was the date that _Titanic_ was launched and entered the water for the first time; hence her 'birth.'  
**

**Also, very special thanks to toastedCroissants, not only for being so loyal with her kind reviews, but also for giving me much help when I wrote this chapter!**

* * *

**I don't own ****_Code Lyoko_**** or any of its respective characters, they belong rightfully to MoonScoop.**

**Special disclaimer: This chapter is based on real events centering around the foundering of the MS _Costa Concordia_, facts of which I researched on many websites. I take no credit for any and all facts displayed here.**

* * *

Chapter V:_ Shaken Confidence__  
_

* * *

At their home in Belfast, Clyde Burke and his wife, Julia, got ready for bed after a long night of dining with Clyde's associates.

Among those present at the meeting were John Sullivan and his wife, and Loyd Davis and his wife; along with other officials of Harland & Wolff and the New White Star Line. Talk between them had mostly centered around _Titanic II_ and what could be done with her on the maiden voyage. Topics varied, but one of the most discussed were plans for marking the centennial of the original _Titanic_'s sinking—April 15, 2012. Ideas ranged from a ship-wide memorial service to a stopover at the site of _Titanic_'s wreck.

Clyde had enjoyed the many ideas that were given, but _Titanic II_ remained incomplete. There was still much to be done on her before she was scheduled to be floated out about two months from now.

He yawned as he crawled into bed with his wife. He pulled the covers over them and reached over to turn off the lamp on the nightstand when the phone rang.

_Who on earth could be calling me well after midnight?_ Clyde thought bitterly to himself as he reached past the lamp to pick up the phone. "Hello?" he answered the phone.

"I'm sorry I had to call you at this hour, Clyde," said the voice on the other end at the line.

"Oh, it's you, Ian," Burke replied. Ian was a friend of Clyde, and an official of Carnival Corporation & plc, a company which owned eleven cruise line brands, including Carnival Cruise Lines itself, Costa Cruises, Cunard Line, and Princess Cruises.

It was so unlike him to call Burke at this hour—what could be wrong?

"So, what is it that you have to tell me?" Burke asked.

Burke listened as Ian began to stutter, which was even more unlike him.

"I...regret to inform you, Clyde," he began as Burke listened, "that the _Costa Concordia_ has run aground and capsized off the coast of Italy tonight."

Burke was stunned. "It can't be!"

"I'm afraid it is, Clyde," Ian replied with a tone of sadness.

"How bad is it?"

"It's still going on. Last we've heard, fifty remain on the ship."

"And casualties?"

"They've gotten reports of at least three bodies in the water. There could be many more."

"My word," Burke muttered, still shocked by the news. "Give me a minute, Ian." He lowered the phone from his ear as he became lost in thought.

How could this be? How could a cruise ship as big as _Costa Concordia_ capsize? It was impossible! No ship that big could—

_Of course it could, it's happened before,_ Burke mentally countered to himself. Less than one hundred years ago, _Titanic_ struck an iceberg and sank. During World War I, _Titanic_'s nearly identical sister ship, _Britannic_, struck a mine and sank in Greece. It was perfectly possible for ships of that size and bigger to sink.

Still, the thought of it being a ship as modern as _Costa __Concordia_—

"What's happened, Clyde?" Julia asked him.

"Remember that Italian cruise we took on our twentieth anniversary?" he asked her.

"_Costa Concordia_?" Julia responded. She knew her fair share of cruise ships.

"Yes," Burke replied. "She's foundered off the coast of Italy."

"Oh, no!" Julia exclaimed.

Burke nodded somberly. "Ian tells me that at least three are dead, and fifty are still on board."

Julia put her hand over her mouth, shocked and saddened by the news. Clyde remembered that Ian was still on the line, and put the phone back up to his ear. "Thank you for waiting, Ian."

"No worries, Clyde," Ian responded on the other end.

"Listen, this news is a very shocking turn of events," explained Burke. "It's just...too much for me. I can't speak to you any longer. I hope you'll understand."

"I understand," Ian acknowledged. "Good night, mate."

"Good night." Burke hung up the phone. He finally turned off the lamp and laid back onto his pillow.

Julia fell asleep swiftly, but Burke wasn't as fortunate. The _Costa Concordia_ disaster remained etched in his mind as he laid in his bed. Questions ranging from the trivial to the dead serious echoed throughout his head for half an hour before he finally cleared these thoughts and began to focus on going to sleep.

Before Burke could fall asleep, however, yet another thought formed in his head: the one hundredth anniversary of the _Titanic_ disaster was only three months away. Burke still had no idea exactly how bad the _Costa Concordia_'s foundering was, but if it was as bad as he thought it was, he hypothesized, people would hear about it, and then they could relate it to _Titanic_—causing heads to turn towards _Titanic II_.

Burke fell asleep, worried for his creation. The dry dock might have protected her from the sea, but _Titanic II_ was defenseless when faced against publicity.

* * *

By the time twilight began to illuminate the dark mid-winter skies over Kadic Academy, most of the school's attending students had woken up. Braving the freezing morning temperatures, the students walked to the cafeteria to eat breakfast before going to their first classes just half an hour later.  
Since it was a Saturday, class lengths were reduced to just under thirty minutes; therefore, school only ran half as long.

For Aelita, Jeremy, Odd, and Ulrich, Mr. Widner's history class was first. Together, they entered the building where his second-level classroom was. As they walked up the stairs, Odd realized something.

"Ulrich," he asked, "today's the fourteenth, right?"

"Yeah," Ulrich confirmed. "Why?"

"Oh, nothing," he explained with a hint of sarcasm. "It's just that yesterday was just another normal day, even though it was _Friday the thirteenth!_"

"Why does that surprise you so much?" asked Jeremy. "It's just a day that a lot of people are superstitious about."

"Then why does everything bad happen on that day?" Odd inquired.

"Bad things can happen on any day," Jeremy countered. "The fact that they might fall on Friday the thirteenth is just a coincidence."

"I guess," Odd said. "Maybe something happened overnight."

Aelita looked at him scoldingly. "You're not trying to invite trouble, are you?" she asked.

"What? No!" Odd denied with surprise. "In fact, I'm glad nothing bad happened for once this time."

_"For once?"_ Ulrich scoffed. "Yeah, right. Until that episode of hard luck you had while we were still fighting XANA, you weren't even superstitious. Now you keep an eye out for the slightest sign of good or bad luck!"

"I've learned it helps to be better safe than sorry," Odd defended himself.

On that note, Ulrich, Jeremy, and Aelita decided that attempting to convince Odd that Friday the 13th was just a day of mere superstition was futile. It was also at this point that the four friends arrived in Mr. Widner's classroom.

The students walked in to discover that the lights were dimmed, and a new projector hanging from the ceiling—each classroom had been renovated to fit the projectors over the summer, but it was only over Christmas break that the projectors were actually installed—displayed the title slide of a slide show detailing World War II.

"Alright, everyone," Mr. Widner said after the bell rang, "take out your notebooks and get ready to take notes."

Using a small, wireless remote, Mr. Widner scrolled through the slide show, summarizing each slide as he went along. The students wrote down points that Mr. Widner said were important. This process continued for much of the next half-hour.

Sitting the nearest to the back of the classroom was Odd and Ulrich. As Mr. Widner described the German occupation of France, Odd turned to his friend and quietly asked, "By the way, how are things going between you and Yumi?"

_Does he really need to ask me right now?_ Ulrich thought. Nonetheless, he replied, "She's still just my friend, Odd. There's nothing between us."

_"What?!"_ Odd blurted out loudly enough for everyone to hear, including Mr. Widner.

"Odd, do you have anything to say?" asked Mr. Widner. Some of the students in the classroom had also turned to look at him.

"Wait, what?" Odd answered, making himself look foolish in the process.

"I asked, 'do you have anything to say?'" the teacher repeated.

Rather than risk saying something dumb like he sometimes did in the past, Odd responded embarrassingly, "No, Mr. Widner."

"I see," said the teacher, giving Odd a suspicious look before carrying on with his lesson.

"It's been eight months since we beat XANA," Odd whispered to Ulrich, "and you're _still_ just friends?"

Ulrich nodded.

Odd was stunned. "Look," he continued, "everything's different now. Talk to her. Do something romantic."

Ulrich shook his head in annoyance and resumed taking notes. Odd sighed in dismay. Then he realized something and asked, "It's William, isn't it?"

Ulrich looked back at him bitterly.

"What's wrong with William?" Odd asked. "He's a nice guy."

"How do you know?" Ulrich retorted. "I don't see you hanging around him. In fact, I don't see Jeremy or Aelita hanging around him, either. That leaves Yumi, because she's the only one that's willing to hang around him after we rescued him from XANA." As he finished, Ulrich began to sound angry.

Odd's hunch was right. "You're jealous, aren't you?" he inquired.

Ulrich's feelings of anger abruptly changed into those of surprise. "What?" he asked. "Why should I? I already told you that we're still just friends."

As he said it, though, he knew that he was lying. Ulrich _was_ jealous. To him, Yumi was spending more of her time with William than with her other friends—not that she could help it, anyway, as they were both one grade ahead of Ulrich. Still, ever since he had begrudgingly agreed with Yumi to keep their relationship platonic, Ulrich felt that William had forcibly worked his way into the group—into being close friends with Yumi.

It only got worse after the group freed William from XANA's captivity just before defeating the AI. True to Ulrich's words, the group had socially distanced themselves from William since then, sometimes to the point of changing subjects when he was nearby. The exception was Yumi—she treated William as a close friend.

_A close friend__,_ thought Ulrich. Maybe his jealousy for William was in vain. Odd was right—things had changed since the supercomputer was shut down. Was it possible that Yumi had been thinking the same things as Ulrich was now? _There's only one way to find out._

"Okay, fine," Ulrich resolved to Odd. "I'll talk to her."

"Wise choice," Odd said with a grin, supporting his friend's decision. "When will you do it?"

"After lunch, when William's not around."

"Well, if it helps. By the way, good luck on catching her all by herself."

With a set objective and a newfound sense of confidence, Ulrich once again returned to taking notes.

Five minutes remained when Mr. Widner finished up his lesson. He minimized the slide show to save it for the next class, only to reveal a prerecorded news video on the screen, waiting to be played. This was not unusual to the students—ever since the projectors were installed, Mr. Widner sometimes showed his classes videos detailing recent events. When Mr. Widner played the video, the figure of a male presenter took up the screen.

"As you probably know," said the presenter, "yesterday was Friday the thirteenth. It is considered by some people to be an unlucky day. Well, unlucky or pure coincidence, last night saw terror on the Mediterranean as the cruise ship _Costa Concordia_ struck a reef and capsized off the coast of the Italian island of Isola del Giglio."

Murmuring broke out in the classroom. Before the classroom quieted down again, the video switched its focus to a female reporter, standing on a beach. Towering behind her in the water was the partially sunken _Costa Concordia_, laying on her starboard side, her decks nearly perpendicular to the water.

"Yes, I'm on Isola del Giglio," she began, "and that—" she gestured to the wrecked cruise ship, "—is the _Costa Concordia_."

The reporter then went into a long summary of how the ship succumbed to disaster. Apparently, the captain had sailed too close to Isola del Giglio, causing her to strike a reef just off the island's coast. The ship then turned around and beached herself on the shallow waters of the coast before rolling over to her current state. Survivors were interviewed about how they made their escape in the ship's lifeboats. Also discussed was what was happening to the ship after the disaster. Salvage workers were making plans to drain the ship's fuel as soon as possible so it wouldn't damage the environment. Divers had been dispatched to locate those still inside the ship's partially flooded hull. In all, three people were confirmed dead, and nearly thirty more remained missing.

The video cut back to the presenter, who thanked the reporter for her detailing of the disaster as the video ended. The bell rang immediately after this.

Odd and Ulrich gathered their belongings, met up with Aelita and Jeremy, and the four of them exited the classroom together with their classmates.

"That cruise ship disaster sounds terrible," commented Aelita solemnly.

"It is," Jeremy agreed.

"Friday the thirteenth or not, it really is," Odd added.

"It looks like you were right about something happening overnight," said Ulrich.

"Yeah," Odd replied. "Normally, I'm all for being right about something, but in this case, I'll make an exception."

"So, what did you two talk about?" Aelita asked Odd and Ulrich. Evidently, she knew of their mid-class conversation.

"Oh, nothing much," Ulrich answered. "Just usual stuff between us."

"Oh," Aelita responded, though with an uncertain look on her face. She and Jeremy began to walk back towards the stairs. "Well, see you at lunch," she said.

Odd and Ulrich gave their goodbyes to Jeremy and Aelita, and then Odd asked, "Why didn't you tell them that you were going to talk to Yumi?"

"Forget it, Odd," said Ulrich. "I'm not like you, telling us about your progress with every girl you've dated."

"Okay, fine," Odd replied, holding up his hands in defense before stuffing them back into his pockets. "Just remember that I'm always open to give you advice," he said.

"Advice from someone who got slapped every time his one of his dates found out about the other?" Ulrich scoffed. "That sounds _real_ helpful."

* * *

Ulrich had never liked cold weather. Sitting on a bench outside the school's cafeteria, he winced as a breeze of cold, stinging air blew into his face. Despite this, he kept his eyes trained on the person approaching from nearly halfway across the campus.

That person was Yumi. In contrast to Ulrich, she didn't seem to care about how cold it was. Ulrich watched her as she walked towards the cafeteria, awestruck at how she looked. Her short, black hair waved gently with the wind, as if inviting Ulrich to come—

Ulrich snapped back to reality, realizing that Yumi was now only a few meters away. It was now or never. After taking a deep breath, he stood up from the bench and began to walk towards her.

"Hey, Yumi," he greeted her.

"Oh, hi, Ulrich," Yumi greeted back to him. She seemed to notice a worried look on his face. "Are you alright?" she asked him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Ulrich answered, trying to sound as casual as possible. In fact, he was very nervous.

"Listen, Yumi," he said to her, "is it alright if I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure," she replied. She stopped, and they turned to face each other. Suddenly, Ulrich realized that he didn't even know how to begin to talk to her. Hastily, he came up with something.

"So, uh, Yumi," Ulrich struggled to begin, "do—do you remember back when we were, you know, fighting XANA?"

"Of course," answered Yumi. "What about it?"

"Well, uh..." stuttered Ulrich, "...you said that, you know, there would be other good times without Lyoko, and I was wondering—" Ulrich fell silent.

"You were wondering what?" she asked him, confused. She rarely heard him stutter this much before.

Ulrich began to panic. He didn't know what to say. He was also so afraid of embarrassing himself in front of Yumi that he almost considered it a blessing when William came up to them.

"Hey, Yumi," William greeted. Then he noticed Ulrich in front of her. "Oh, sorry, am I interrupting anything?"

"Actually, William," said Yumi, "Ulrich and I were—"

"No, you're not interrupting anything," interrupted Ulrich.

Yumi threw Ulrich a questioning look.

"I see," William understood. Then to Yumi, he asked, "Can I have your help with something?"

Yumi looked back at him. "Um, sure, William," she answered, sounding a bit hesitant.

"I'm sorry, Ulrich, I have to go," said Yumi as she and William began to walk away. Ulrich could hear the regret in her voice. With a smile, she added, "It was nice to talk to you."

Ulrich did nothing but nod and smile back. After she turned her head away from him, Ulrich cursed himself for not planning what he was going to say to Yumi. It was too late to start over now—William was back with Yumi.

Ulrich decided to go back indoors—anything to both shelter him from the cold and drown out his frustration.

* * *

The chaos of the previous night prevented Andrew from getting enough sleep; as a result, it was fairly early in the morning when he woke up. Uncomfortably, he rolled over on the hard floor and faced the ceiling as he drowsily pieced together the memories of the last twelve hours or so.

After leaving the pier where he and the terrorists—he learned that they referred to themselves as the "Black Ocean"—disembarked from the lifeboats, Andrew followed them into the town of Giglio Porto. At some point, they split up; Victor, Ivan, and Alec left him in the care of George and Gregory. Andrew was unnerved at this, and with good reason. After all, it had been only a few hours earlier since they were ready to kill him, and now he was once again at their mercy.

More than once Andrew thought about making a break for it, but George and Gregory never let him out of their sight. They walked for some time through town until they found a resident, an old man in his early seventies, who allowed them to spend the night in his house. This wasn't uncommon; many of Isola del Giglio's residents opened their homes to the more than 4,200 passengers and crew from _Costa Concordia_ who made it ashore. Andrew gradually grew more wary of Gregory and George as they followed the man to his house, which was a two-story building situated on a hillside that overlooked the town and the harbor.

As they settled in, however, Andrew was surprised at George and Gregory's behavior towards him. Despite Victor's boast about how merciless they were, they seemed to express at least partial concern for his well-being, such as checking to see if he was comfortable where he slept—he reflected that he hadn't been completely honest with them—and making sure his basic needs were satisfied.

Andrew sat up from the spot on the floor where he slept—little more than a pillow and a few blankets—and looked around the guest room where he, Gregory, and George slept. It was quite spacious, being able to fit a queen-size bed, a dressing table, and a wardrobe with room to spare. Getting up on his feet, he noticed the bed was empty; last night, Gregory and George had it all to themselves, but now it was vacant, save for the disturbed blankets and sheets left from their presence.

The bedroom's north- and east-facing walls were each dominated by a single large window. Andrew walked over to the eastern window. He was impressed with the view; it was so high that he had to crane his neck down slightly to see the closely-spaced buildings of the town and the boats in the harbor. The harbor was of particular interest—closely tied up together against the pier that Andrew and the terrorists stepped out on were about a dozen of _Costa Concordia_'s empty, used lifeboats. As Andrew watched, he noticed a larger vessel leaving the harbor crowded with people. It was a ferry, seemingly overloaded with _Costa Concordia_ survivors, leaving for the mainland.

Andrew turned to the other large window on his left. It was also an impressive view—he stood looking parallel to the coastline and could clearly see Isola del Giglio's mountainous slopes to his left. His head turned to the right to look at the blue water of the Mediterranean, but his eyes instead fell on the wrecked and apparently deserted hulk of _Costa Concordia_. Now that the cruise ship was in plain daylight, Andrew could examine how last night's events had taken their toll on her.

_Costa Concordia_ was lying on her starboard side, having keeled over about seventy degrees before coming to rest in the shallow waters off the island's coast. Surrounding her was a cluster of smaller vessels that appeared to be rescue boats. Andrew wondered just how bad _Costa Concordia_'s foundering had been—since he had just woken up, he wasn't fully aware of how serious the _Costa Concordia_ disaster really was. He also wondered about his cousin. Colin had been drunk, which was why Andrew had fled and, ultimately, why Andrew was stuck with these terrorists.

And yet—Andrew also remembered him and his wife near the lifeboats. He remembered the worried looks on their faces as they looked around, possibly looking for him. Andrew feared returning to them, though, for risk of punishment.

Had it really been wise?

A knock on the guest room's door shook him out of his thoughts. Andrew walked to the door and opened it, only to find himself face-to-face with one of the twin bodyguard brothers—whether it was Gregory or George, he was still unable to tell.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" the bodyguard asked.

Andrew comprehended his tone and the look on his face. They both clearly showed genuine regret. Andrew still couldn't believe that this was coming from the same man who had been prepared to kill him last night.

"No, you didn't," Andrew replied.

Now the bodyguard was relieved. "Oh, that's good to know," he said. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes," Andrew answered.

"That's good to know," the bodyguard repeated. "George and I decided to let you sleep in for a while, after all that happened last night."

So this was Gregory. "We're going to have lunch with Victor and the others downtown," Gregory explained.

At this point, Andrew realized he was hungry. He had missed breakfast, but he wasn't bothered. "When?" he asked.

"We're leaving in about half an hour. Get ready."

Andrew looked at him, aghast. "But all I have are the clothes I wore last night!" he exclaimed._  
_

"So do we," Gregory bluntly replied. "There's a clothing store downtown; we'll stop by there after we're done eating."

"What should I do before we leave?" asked Andrew.

"Take a shower. Mr. Stefano—" that was the name of the man who had opened his house to them, "—was kind enough to let us use his shower."

So Andrew fetched one of Mr. Stefano's towels and headed into the bathroom. The shower was a quick one, lasting about five minutes. Then he was out. He put back on the clothes that he wore yesterday—including his father's jacket. Twenty minutes later, after packing what little belongings they saved from _Costa Concordia_ and bidding Mr. Stefano a final thanks and farewell, Andrew, George, and Gregory left the house and began to trek downhill into Giglio Porto's downtown.

* * *

After another ten minutes spent walking, Andrew, George, and Gregory arrived at the restaurant where they planned to eat lunch. Entering the restaurant, it wasn't long before they reunited with the rest of the Black Ocean—Alec, Ivan, and Victor.

"It's about time you arrived," Victor greeted them bluntly. He retained the same look and tone of discontent that he had held the previous night.

"Did you sleep well, boss?" asked one of the twin bodyguards.

"If you don't count the fact that we failed to find—" Victor paused mid-sentence, realizing they were surrounded by people in the restaurant, either eating or waiting in line for a table. Unwilling to risk anyone overhearing and getting suspicious, he leaned towards the bodyguard and repeated more quietly, "If you don't count that we failed to find Aelita, you could say that."

"You're _still_ sulking over that?" asked Andrew in a criticizing tone—the same type of tone he tended to use around his cousin. Victor responded by throwing him a dirty look, and Alec shook his head at Andrew, warning him that he had made a mistake.

The rest of the Black Ocean slowly backed away as Victor began to approach Andrew, retaining the angry look on his face that reminded Andrew of their first 'meeting' in the emergency stairway of _Costa Concordia_. Menacingly, he leaned towards Andrew and said to him, "You're lucky you're new to us, and we're in a public place. If that weren't the case, I wouldn't hesitate to harm you right now. Keep that in mind, understood?"

Andrew nodded, and let out a sigh of relief as Victor turned away, and the Black Ocean resumed waiting to get a table.

Five minutes later, they were seated at a table hidden in plain sight near a corner of the restaurant. As they sat, Andrew noticed how little conversation there was between them. Maybe it had to do with them being in a public place, like Victor stated, but other than giving their order to a waiter and a few brief exchanges between Alec, Ivan, and Victor relating to issues that he could not comprehend—Andrew overheard words such as "supercomputer," "Schaeffer," "project," and "hackers," among other words that meant little to him—the Black Ocean waited for their food in silence.

The silence was suddenly broken by a loud ringing noise. Andrew saw the rest of the Black Ocean look towards Ivan expectantly, who reached into his pocket and pulled out a small cell phone. His eyes squinted as he looked at the tiny screen of the mobile device.

"It's from headquarters," he announced. He pushed a button to answer the call. "Yes?"

Andrew heard a man speak through the phone's speaker. Ivan did little more than listen at first, but then he perked up in interest.

"Could you wait a moment?" Ivan asked the caller. "I think it's best if I let Victor talk to you."

Ivan lowered the phone from his ear and handed it over to Victor. "It's from the hackers," he told him.

Now the phone was at Victor's ear. "This is Victor," he said. "What is it?" Like he did with Ivan, the caller began to speak while Victor, for the most part, listened. Suddenly, his eyes widened.

"Where at?" asked Victor, seemingly excited. Andrew heard more talking in response. Victor continued to listen, but he was now clearly more interested.

"Thank you," Victor thanked the caller after the latter had finished his speech. "Continue your work. Find out as much as you can about it before we go to France to investigate." Victor hung up.

"What was that all about?" asked Alec.

"They've found it," replied Victor with a grin.

Alec understood immediately. "Where?" he asked again.

"Apparently, they've tracked it to an abandoned factory within the suburbs of Paris," Victor answered.

While Alec and Ivan joined Victor in his pleasure, Gregory and George were still left in the dark. "What have they found?" one of them asked.

"One of the things we've been looking for—Waldo Schaeffer's supercomputer."

* * *

**I have so much to say. I guess I'll begin with a quick recap on what I did to the relationships between Ulrich, William, and Yumi: I tried to set up a situation like the one in the first few episodes of _Code Lyoko Evolution_, and at the same time incorporate elements from the ****last few episodes of the**** original series. That's all I'm willing to say.  
**

**Also, by the time I finished this, I realized something else _Titanic_-related that happened on this very date: not only was the ship launched in 1911, but in 2009, the last known survivor, Millvina Dean, passed away. May she, as well as all others who sailed on the ship, rest in peace as I use this chapter to mark the 102nd anniversary of the launch of the RMS _Titanic_.  
**

**Update, August 3, 2013: This chapter has been EXTENDED! And that's not all****—click 'next' for an announcement from me.  
**


	7. 3 August 2013 Announcement

**Hello, everyone! This is The Eccentric Gamer, but you can go ahead and call me things like "TEG," "Eccentric," "Gamer," or whatever. However, that's not the reason why I'm here.**

**Firstly, anyone who has been following me and/or my story is probably well aware that me and _Code Lyoko: Titanic II_ have been on hiatus for a while. Granted, I published my first one-shot, _Replikated Incident_ (go ahead and check that out if you haven't already) back in June, but _CL:T2_, aside from small edits every now and then, has been "update dead" for two months now—that is, hasn't gotten a new chapter since the end of May.  
**

**I could explain a little more, but I'll just cut to the chase and say I'm sorry for being off so long. I really hoped I could resume regular updates when my school let out, but unfortunately, that wasn't the case. I have a summer job now, and I've been lacking hard motivation for working on my story, plus I've run into small situations of writer's block at times. **

**I'm sure my fellow authors will understand—initially, when I first published _CL:T2_, I was excited, with thoughts like "I'm really excited for this! I'm going to keep updating!" And then, later on, I lost those enthusiastic thoughts, and they were replaced with, "Eh, I really don't feel like working on this that much..." Hopefully, you'll forgive me, right? If not, well, that's your problem, not mine.  
**

**And to make up for all that time spent waiting, I've given Chapter V of _CL:T2_ a major extension that I was originally planning to add when I published it back in May, but I ended up cancelling due to time constraints (I wanted to have it up on May 31, the 102nd anniversary of _Titanic_'s launch). It details the experiences of Andrew and the Black Ocean the day following the _Costa Concordia_ disaster, so go ahead and read that if you haven't already.  
**

**If you already reviewed Chapter V, feel free to review the changes again. But don't do it on here****—this space will eventually be occupied by Chapter VI in the future (details on that coming up). Instead, write it on the bottom of Chapter V's page (it should be listed as #6 on the chapter selection drop-down list).**

**So, yeah. Chapter VI is in the works now, but I can't say much about it at the moment. I will be posting updates on my profile, however, so be sure to check that out regularly. I'll try to be as consistent with my updates as I can. It _will_ be published eventually, I can guarantee that! :)  
**

**Thank you so much for reading my story, leave a review, favorite or follow if you'd like, and I'll see you again when I publish Chapter VI!  
**

_**-TEG, 08/03/2013  
**_


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